


A Kick in the Head

by SlothBaby (crimsonherbarium)



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Boxing & Fisticuffs, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Protective Steve Rogers, Sparring, Unresolved Romantic Tension, this probably isn't canon compliant but i haven't seen the rest of the movies yet i'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 09:48:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17078027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsonherbarium/pseuds/SlothBaby
Summary: Steve is very certain that Bucky is not okay. He drags him out to spar so he has an outlet for some of the anger he's holding onto, and it helps--sort of.





	A Kick in the Head

It was hard to adjust after rotating back into the world. Steven Grant Rodgers, the man out of time, understood that better than most.

It followed that he also understood it had to be infinitely harder for Bucky. The Winter Soldier, frozen and unfrozen, brainwashed and reprogrammed countless times. The things he’d done, the things that had been done _to him_ —he probably hadn’t even begun to process it all. It was hard to come back from something like that. It was easy to get sucked back in, to fall into a spiral when you suddenly found yourself alone with time to think and no mission to complete. Steve had done it. Sam had done it. Steve was sure that Bucky was doing it now.

And so he took it upon himself to get Bucky out of the house, to find some kind of constructive outlet him to get out some of the anger he was holding onto. They’d been friends for almost a century. Steve could tell he wasn’t okay. He could see it in the set of his jaw, the lines around his eyes.

He barged into Bucky’s room, not bothering to knock, and chucked a water bottle at his head. Bucky snatched it out of the air, sitting up with an annoyed expression on his face.

“What gives?” he growled, looking down at the bottle in his hand.

“We’re going to the gym. Come on.” Steve turned and headed for the door, slinging his duffel bag over his shoulder.

Bucky hesitated.

“That’s an order, soldier!” Steve called back over his shoulder. After a moment, he was rewarded with a weary sigh and the sound of someone getting to their feet.

~~~~~~

The boxing gym was deserted, the other patrons having all gone home hours ago. The fluorescents overhead buzzed when Steve switched them on, flickering for a few seconds before settling into a sickly orange glow.

Steve could feel Bucky glaring at him as he wound the cotton tape around his knuckles. “Got something to say, or are you just gonna keep trying to strike me down from there?”

“You should’ve left me at home,” Bucky said bitterly. “I’m not good company.”

“Think I brought you here for company?” Steve snorted. “If I wanted someone to talk at me for hours I’d call Stark. Nope,” he said, making a fist to test the wrap. “This is about you lying in bed all day. You’re gonna get soft.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “I could take you any day of the week.”

“We’ll see how big you talk after I ring your head like a bell.” Steve grinned.

Bucky sighed in exasperation. “Fine. If it’ll get you off my back, we can spar.”

He made his way up to the ring, ducking under the ropes and standing in a corner. Steve made to follow him, but Bucky shook his head.

“Nope,” he said. “Get the shield. I know you have it with you. Don’t want you taking it easy on me.”

Steve raised his eyebrow. “If that’s what you want.”

He detoured to his gym bag and pulled it out. His phone came spilling out of the bag with it—he must have forgotten to take it out the last time he’d gotten home from the gym. He was terrible at keeping up with it, really. If S.H.I.E.L.D. hadn’t insisted he needed to have one, he would have forgone it altogether.

“Hey, how about some music?” He held up the phone. “Nat loaded some songs on here for me. Might make it feel a bit more like old times.”

Bucky shrugged. “Whatever you want.”

Steve managed to locate the music app after a minute of searching and mashed the shuffle button. He left the phone on a bench and went to join Bucky in the ring. “No holding back?” he said, adjusting his grip on the shield.

The faintest hint of a smile crossed Bucky’s lips. He made a fist with his prosthetic hand. “No holding back.”

Steve’s phone struck up a big band melody as the two circled each other, the brass made slightly tinny by the speaker. Steve missed record players. The sound quality had been much nicer. Newer didn’t always mean better.

 _“How lucky can one guy be…”_ the phone crooned.

Bucky made the first move, launching himself forward and throwing a roundhouse punch at Steve’s head. Steve threw up the shield and blocked it, the sound of metal on metal reverberating through the empty room. He shoved Bucky’s arm away and followed with a punch of his own; the other man sidestepped it easily.

_“Like the fella once said, ain’t that a kick in the head…”_

Steve charged at Bucky, throwing him backward against the ropes. Bucky used the return momentum to thump Steve hard in the chest, throwing him flat on his back. Steve rocked back and jumped back to his feet. He threw his shield at Bucky like a discus—Bucky deflected it with his metal arm—Steve caught it, and was barely able to bring it up in time to block Bucky’s following punch to his face—

_“Like the sailor said, quote: ain’t that a hole in the boat…”_

Steve swung his fist at Bucky, this time connecting solidly with the other man’s jaw. Bucky stumbled back and then grinned, a drop of blood welling up from his split lip.

_“My head keeps spinning, I go to sleep, I keep grinning…”_

Bucky feinted to Steve’s right—Steve fell for it and found himself suddenly lifted off the ground, Bucky’s hand around his neck—

_“I couldn’t feel any better, or I’d be sick…”_

Steve scrabbled at Bucky’s fingers but couldn’t find purchase. He swung his legs up and planted them solidly in the center of Bucky’s chest, kicking with all his might and throwing him to the floor. Steve rolled when he landed, throwing himself forward before Bucky had a chance to get back to his feet. Steve gripped him by his wrists, pinning him flat on his back, using his weight to hold him down.

 _“Tell me quick, oh ain’t love a kick, in the head?”_ The music faded as the two of them lay there, trying to catch their breath.

“Had enough?” Steve grinned.

Bucky opened his mouth but nothing came out. The smile faded from his face, tears welling up suddenly in his eyes.

Steve panicked. “Christ, Bucky, I’m sorry—” He released his grip on Bucky’s wrists, pushing himself up so that he was sitting back on his heels. “I thought you didn’t want me to go easy on you…”

Bucky sat up and wiped angrily at his eyes. “S’not you.” He sucked on his split lip.

Steve took a deep breath and sighed it out. He repositioned himself so that he was sitting beside Bucky. “Look, I know things are pretty darn awful right now. But I’m here for you. You just gotta tell me what you need.”

Bucky leaned into Steve, resting his head on his shoulder. “You know, I never did get used to you being taller than me,” he sighed.

“I never got used to it either. You know I still hit my head on low door frames all the time? You’d think almost a century would be enough time to adjust.”

Bucky chuckled through the tears. “Same old Steve.”

“Course I am.” Steve wrapped an arm around Bucky’s shoulder. “Even when it seems like the world’s gone upside down, when there are gods falling from the sky and it feels like everything that’s happening is just some terrible fever dream—I’ll still be the same old Steve.”

Bucky’s breathing slowly grew more regular. “You were the only thing,” he said after a few minutes of silence. “The only thing that broke through their programming, even the littlest bit. I saw your face and it…it woke me up. I spent decades following their orders. Nothing even scratched the surface. But you—” he reached up and squeezed Steve’s hand. “You did.”

“Known you my entire life, Bucky,” Steve said, squeezing back. “You can’t go through the things we went through without forming some kind of bond. I’ve got your back. And I still trust you with my life.”

“You shouldn’t.” Bucky’s voice faltered. “I don’t…they could still be in there…my mind still isn’t…”

“I don’t care. I know you, Bucky Barnes. And I trust you.”

Steve’s phone continued softly playing swing music in the background as the two of them sat there in the center of the ring. Eventually, they gathered up their things and made their way home through the darkness, Steve’s arm still slung protectively around Bucky’s shoulder.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I literally just saw Winter Soldier (I'm late, I know) and I'm obsessed with these two now.
> 
> Song featured: "Ain't That a Kick in the Head" by Dean Martin


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